Karakura Heroes
by Aristophanes Symposium
Summary: Rukia tries to impress her fellow soul reapers with her knowledge of the Land of the Living. Captain Hitsugaya isn't amused. Okay, maybe he's a little amused.
1. Yes, Sir

**Karakura Heroes**

 **Chapter One: Yes, Sir**

"It would appear that Aizen has begun to make his move. We've received word of an arrancar moving about Karakura Town." Captain-Commander Yamamoto surveyed the remaining captains with narrowed eyes. Toushirou shifted and frowned. His hands balled into fists.

 _Aizen…_ The meeting's cloying atmosphere stifled them. Everyone remained silent as the implications sank in. Ukitake spoke first.

"So soon?" he asked. Yamamoto nodded curtly.

"Yes. The arrancar was imperfect, and easily dispatched. There is little doubt that more are to come, however. It seems Aizen is interested in Karakura." Yamamoto's weathered grip tightened on his oak staff; it rapped against the wooden floor, a dull thud that echoed, magnified by the pervading quiet.

Under the surface, the Captain-Commander's rage sizzled. They all felt it as the spirit particles around them grew heated. Toushirou refrained from wiping away the sweat dripping down his face. Hyorinmaru grumbled.

 _You mean the substitute soul reaper._ It couldn't be obvious just to Toushirou. For whatever reason, Aizen spared the human, wasting time talking to him rather than killing him immediately. _Ichigo Kurosaki – what are you to Aizen?_

"So what now, fearless leader?" asked Kyoraku, impudent as ever toward their commander.

Toushirou rather envied Kyoraku's poise in the old man's indomitable presence. Sweat slid down Toushirou's neck, pooling in the hollow between his shoulder and neck. His uniform clung to his skin. Toushirou didn't know how the others stood it. He masked his discomfort, not wanting to appear weak.

"This is a matter I've dwelt on quite a bit. I've decided to station an outpost in Karakura. A handful of high level soul reapers, led by a captain, will protect the town and investigate Aizen's interest in the area." Yamamoto fixed Kyoraku with a flat stare. The laid back captain adjusted his hat, irrepressible smile unfaltering.

"Oh? And who will be granted the honor of such a task?" asked Kyoraku.

"I've already made that decision. Captain Hitsugaya will lead the platoon," Yamamoto said.

For a moment Toushirou forgot to breathe. Then his heart started hammering; it felt as though it might burst out of his chest. He didn't know if he was excited or anxious. Perhaps both. It all depended on whether this decision took him closer to Aizen – or further away.

"Captain Hitsugaya. During the invasion, you were one of the only ones to investigate what was happening behind the scenes. That is to be commended. If not for your efforts, who knows what Aizen may have accomplished. This is your reward," Yamamoto said.

"… Thank you, sir." Toushirou felt troubled.

Momo led him by the nose, and when he finally confronted Aizen, he'd been swatted aside like a fly. Was this really a reward? Or a punishment instead?

"Indeed. I will entrust the selection of your subordinates to you, Captain Hitsugaya. All I request is that you broaden your choices to the other divisions. Showcase unity. Now, onto the next matter. I would like to recall all unseated soul reapers from high risk areas..."

Discussion of wartime tactics ensued. Pensive, Toushirou tried to focus, but his thoughts wandered elsewhere. Then the meeting concluded, and the ten remaining captains of the imperial court dispersed. Following suit, Toushirou paused when Yamamoto called for him.

"One moment. I'd like to have a private word," said the captain-commander. Toushirou hung back, watching the swirl of black and white, and one vivid splash of pink, drain out the room. He glanced at Yamamoto.

"Yes, sir?" Toushirou inquired. The hot, enraged spiritual pressure had died down a while ago. It seemed Yamamoto's temper was under control. This fact brought Toushirou no small amount of relief. Hyorinmaru relaxed as well.

"While you're in the Land of the Living, observe Ichigo Kurosaki. Report your findings directly to me. And, if you ever feel that he is a danger to Soul Society, do not hesitate to destroy him. Understood?" Yamamoto's heavy gaze held Toushirou in place. He swallowed.

 _W-what…?_

Toushirou felt puzzled. True, Kurosaki defied Yamamoto and his vaunted captains again and again, but in the end Kurosaki's defiance helped Soul Society. Why would he harm it? He'd only ever wanted to save Rukia Kuchiki. Nothing more, nothing less. Confused, Toushirou filed his musings in the back of his mind, to examine at a later date.

"I – yes, sir," Toushirou said. Raising a gnarled hand, Yamamoto clasped the young prodigy's shoulder in a vice grip. Heat crawled down Toushirou's spine, and he resisted the urge to rip free.

"Good. You have vast, near limitless potential, Captain Hitsugaya. What you lack… is experience. You'll go far, in time. The pride of Soul Society rests on your shoulders. Never forget that. Dismissed." Yamamoto let go, hand dropping away.

Pride filled Toushirou, then. His own pride, at the recognition of his talents by one as peerless as Yamamoto. Toushirou wasn't a fool. He knew what others whispered around corners and behind closed doors. He knew his status as a prodigy, his control over his own abilities so extensive he could alter the weather, often drew comparisons to the captain-commander. His fingers twitched.

 _(Don't let it go to your head.)_

Toushirou frowned but brushed aside Hyorinmaru's low growl. Thanking Yamamoto, Toushirou exited. Surprisingly, he found Captain Kuchiki waiting for him. The noble's expression was impossible to read, as per usual. Had he been eavesdropping? Toushirou couldn't imagine Captain Kuchiki degrading himself in such a fashion. They nodded at one another and then began to walk as a companionable silence ensued.

"Have you ever heard the phrase, 'ignorance is bliss'?" asked Captain Kuchiki. Taken aback, Toushirou's brow knitted.

"Yes, I'm familiar with the cliché."

"Good." Then Kuchiki used flash step and flitted off. Toushirou blinked.

 _What a strange beginning to the day._

* * *

Toushirou sat at his desk. Since taking on the Fifth Division's load, the reports seemed never ending. He sent a prayer of thanks to Captain Kuchiki and Captain Komamura for shouldering the burdens of the Third and Ninth Division respectively.

The scratch of pen on paper, as well as Matsumoto's gentle breathing, filled the air. Toushirou sighed. The matter of choosing subordinates for the mission wouldn't be an easy one. Especially since he'd coordinate with other captains, if he went outside his division like Yamamoto wanted. Trying to work with someone like Captain Kenpachi or Captain Kurotsuchi on such matters was like pulling out teeth.

 _(Rukia Kuchiki is an obvious choice.)_

Toushirou tapped his pen, a steady staccato. Hyorinmaru wasn't wrong. Rukia Kuchiki knew both Karakura and Kurosaki better than anyone in Soul Society. Plus she'd regained her powers in the past few months, and thus was combat capable. Ukitake would be accommodating as well; an added bonus.

 _One down. Well, two._ Matsumoto would have to come. If left to her own devices, she'd likely leave a mountain of paperwork waiting for Toushirou. And only if the division wasn't a smoking ruin upon his return. She'd also probably compromise the other lieutenants with her drunken tendencies, dragging them into the depths of debauchery. Besides, Matsumoto proved, time and time again, far more effective on the field than stuck behind a desk.

He watched her stir and waken, almost as if she sensed his musings. A tangle of golden ringlets rose into his field of vision. She yawned, stretching, like a lion sprawled warm and drowsy in the sun. Matsumoto slung one arm over the couch, turning toward Toushirou with bleary grey eyes.

"Oh, captain, fancy seeing you here," she said.

He gritted his teeth.

"Matsumoto. Do your damn job."

She sighed and whined, hemmed and hawed, pulled herself to her desk complaining about how living life with two melons strapped to her chest wasn't easy. When she reached her chair, Matsumoto collapsed as though she'd just completed a long and arduous journey. Toushirou rolled his eyes.

"Captain, are the rumors true?" Matsumoto asked a little while later. Her superior had replaced her on the couch, hands behind his head and eyes half-closed as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Knowing the Soul Society rumor mill, I doubt it. What do you mean?" Toushirou replied. Pouting, Matsumoto doodled on the transfer request she'd been filling out.

There were many such requests from the Fifth Division. Many soul reapers even quit outright. They hadn't handled the reveal that their beloved captain was a traitor very well. Yet another reason to hate Aizen.

"Some are saying you're going to the Land of the Living," she said.

Straightening, his face tightened into a scowl.

"Who told you that?" Toushirou asked. Matsumoto clapped her hands together.

"So it's true!"

Dodging questions was a Rangiku Matsumoto specialty. Toushirou pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yes, we'll be taking an advance team to Karakura," he said. Matsumoto opened her mouth, froze, and then beamed. Flustered, Toushirou looked away and slunk low on the couch. "Stop defacing official documents."

A lull ensued after that, Matsumoto's low humming a gentle drone in the background. Toushirou's eyelids grew heavy, and he began nodding off. It had been awhile since he'd felt something resembling contentment. The benefit of being granted purpose, Toushirou supposed. A loud knock jolted him out of his reverie.

"Come in," he called.

The door slid open and Toushirou arched one pale eyebrow. There stood Rukia Kuchiki, radiating anxiety and clutching a – was that a sketchpad? Matsumoto gawked, appearing just as nonplussed.

"Captain Hitsugaya, sir," said the younger Kuchiki. Toushirou made a mental decision to refer to her as Rukia in the sanctity of his own mind, for the sake of ease and simplicity. "I've come to request a place in your squad!"

She knelt onto one knee and bowed her head.

No one spoke. The pregnant pause ballooned forth, hampering communication. Matsumoto's jaw currently lay on the floor. Toushirou tried to figure out how Rukia heard about the mission. Did _everyone_ in Soul Society already know?

"I realize that I'm an unseated soul reaper," Rukia continued when it became clear the other two were stunned and not about to break the quiet. "So I came up with a presentation as to why I'd be a suitable candidate."

She flipped open the sketchpad. Bright colors and thick, black lines assaulted Toushirou's vision. He gaped, at a loss for words. The drawings were terrible, closer to a child's scribbles than anything crafted by a self-respecting adult. Was this a joke? Was Rukia playing some sort of trick on him? Was she _mocking_ him? Anger prickled his skin, and Toushirou took a deep breath.

She still spoke – something about her soul cutter. In the picture it looked closer to a piece of chalk then an actual weapon (and were those bears? They were bears, right? _Right_?). Her expression appeared deadly serious, if tinged with a nervous blush. It was that expression that threw him for a loop. Such a sharp contrast to the sketches in her clutches. Black and white accented by pink, compared to an explosion of yellows and reds and blues. Then Rukia flipped the page, and raved about a liquid container that defied comprehension.

 _What is happening?_

 _(It's an endearing character trait.)_

 _What?_

But Hyorinmaru didn't respond, curled up and coiled, more like a cat than a dragon. Typical.

Toushirou studied Rukia. In a lot of ways she reminded him of Momo, and the realization sent a pang through his heart. Both were dark and slight; but while Momo's warm brown eyes belied a hidden strength, Rukia's purple gaze looked sharp and hard like flint. A barrier erected to protect something softer that the world tried crushing underfoot, again and again. If he focused, he could make out flecks of blue and red in those violet eyes.

Toushirou felt he understood why Abarai and Kurosaki did everything in their power to save the girl before him. His annoyance faded, forgotten, and his mouth twitched. He became _amused_. It wasn't an emotion Toushirou experienced often. When had he last – oh right. When he'd scared Momo, right before everything fell apart.

 _(The calm before the storm.)_

"Captain Hitsugaya?" Rukia brought him back to the present, her head cocked. The little presentation finished, it seemed, and Toushirou, lost in thought, hadn't realized it. "Is… is that satisfactory? If you want, I could come up with more –?"

"No, that won't be necessary," Toushirou said. "You've, uh, illustrated your point well enough. I was going to ask you to join anyway."

"Oh." Rukia blinked. "Oh! Thank you, captain! You won't regret it!"

"Of course not. On your feet." Toushirou stood. He didn't know if they'd always been the same height, if he'd gotten a growth spurt, or if she'd shrunk from the weight of almost losing her life, but something about being able to look someone straight in the eye felt satisfying. He moved and pulled out a piece of paper from his desk. "Take this to Captain Ukitake. I'll be in contact to review logistics."

Rukia reached and grabbed the sheet. Her small hands clenched around the paper, and it crinkled in her grip.

She said, "Yes, sir."

"Kuchiki, wait." Toushirou stopped her from leaving. Rukia stared at him. "Do you have any recommendations for those that accompany us?"

"Renji Abarai." She didn't even hesitate. Then Rukia blinked, biting her lower lip. "And… Hanataro Yamada."

Toushirou frowned. He knew Lieutenant Abarai, of course. But Hanataro Yamada? The name rang familiar, but the _why_ eluded him. He crossed his arms. His face must've shown his uncertainty, because Rukia cleared her throat.

"He's the seventh seat of the Fourth Division. I would trust him with my life, sir."

Toushirou exchanged glances with Matsumoto. His lieutenant shrugged. Helpful, thy name was not.

"Very well." He looked at Rukia. She looked back, and then dropped her eyes to the side. She seemed to be trying her hardest not to fidget. Why wasn't she – oh. "Dismissed, Kuchiki."

Rukia inclined her head and left, walking even though it looked like she wanted to run.

 _Interesting,_ Toushirou thought.

 _(You always make things more complicated than they need to be. She's scared of you.)_

 _Then why did she approach me at all, oh great heavenly dragon?_

 _(Because she's desperate, smartass.)_

"Oh my god," Matsumoto said. Toushirou sighed, although he welcomed the distraction. "She's so cute! Captain, can I keep her?"

"Rukia Kuchiki is not a pet, Matsumoto," he snapped, irritated.

Inwardly he felt perturbed. Hyorinmaru's observations bothered him. If it had been almost anyone else, Toushirou would've been flattered to inspire fear. Too many soul reapers underestimated him because of his youth and inexperience. But for some reason, he didn't feel that way about Rukia. Even though he didn't know her well, he knew of her, and she had his sympathies. Rukia suffered much, and her similarities to Momo brought out Toushirou's protective instincts.

"I was going to ask you to join anyway," Matsumoto quoted him, although her tone turned lecherous. "Does someone have a c-r-u-s-h?"

"Shut up, Matsumoto," Toushirou growled, becoming annoyed.

"You're blushing," she said with a mischievous grin.

"What? No, I'm not!" His hand jumped to his cheek. It felt cool and normal. Matsumoto cackled. Toushirou's gaze hardened. The temperature plummeted off a sheer cliff.

"MATSUMOTO!"

* * *

Toushirou's brow twitched.

"Where are they, Abarai?" he asked.

The red-headed soul reaper swallowed and scratched his head. They currently resided in the room where lieutenants gathered for meetings. Rukia and Yamada stood in a corner conversing, while Matsumoto sprawled out on the table and pretended to take a nap. All three raised their heads and watched Abarai squirm under Toushirou's cold stare.

"Ah, well, y-you see, they'll be here shortly – I mean, they'll be here soon, I'm sure of it, sir!" Abarai shouted.

Rukia snorted. She seemed much more at ease in the presence of her longtime friend, Toushirou noted. A faint smile tugged at her lips, her posture relaxed as she let Yamada fuss over her like a mother hen.

"They better," Toushirou said.

He still couldn't believe he'd agreed to take on members of the Eleventh Division. Yes, they were excellent fighters, but he had a feeling that fact wouldn't be worth the massive headaches their stubbornness often inspired.

Several days passed since the first arrancar sighting. In that time, Toushirou had been hard at work delegating tasks to his seated officers, as well as doing everything required to form an advance team (much of which was spent screaming at one Zaraki Kenpachi). He'd also been in near constant communication with Kisuke Urahara, an obnoxious endeavor that no doubt took decades off his lifespan.

"They're probably lost, sir. They're all obsessed with emulating their captain after all," Matsumoto said in a sing-song voice.

"What the hell you saying 'bout my captain?" Ikkaku Madarame swaggered into the room, followed closely by Yumichika Ayasegawa.

"You're late." Toushirou turned from a relieved Abarai to fix Madarame with an icy glower, cutting off Matsumoto's retort. The bald third seat appeared unaffected, his hand on the hilt of his sword and a manic grin in place.

"What are you gonna do about it, Captain Hitsugaya?" he drawled.

Yamada gasped at the impertinence. A smacking sound could be heard as Abarai brought the palm of his hand to his forehead.

 _(You're not just going to let that go, are you?)_

"You know," Toushirou said, "it occurs to me, that even though we know each other's names, we've never been formerly introduced. I think that's a real shame."

He flash stepped over to Madarame and slammed him down onto the floor. Toushirou's spiritual pressure held the man in place.

"Y… yeah?" Madarame gasped, beads of sweat sliding down his bald head.

"Yes, _sir_ ," Toushirou dug his heel into Madarame's sternum, "is what I believe you meant to say. Let's start over. Here's how this will proceed. You're going to tell me your name and rank, apologize for your tardiness, and then I'll tell you _my_ name and rank. And _then_ you'll say what a pleasure it is to meet me, and how you can't wait to be my subordinate. Do we understand one another?"

"I –."

" _Do we understand one another_?"

"Yes… sir," Madarame choked out.

Toushirou stepped off him and extended a hand. Madarame stared at it, the battle in his eyes clear. After a moment he took it and Toushirou hauled him back on his feet.

"Ikkaku Madarame, third seat of the Eleventh Division," he muttered. "I'm… sorry for being late."

"Don't let it happen again. My name's Captain Toushirou Hitsugaya of the Tenth Division," he replied.

"It's a, ah, pleasure to meet you, sir. I can't wait to work under you." Madarame licked his chapped lips. Ayasegawa laughed a merry laugh and clapped his hands.

"Oh, how elegant," he proclaimed. Madarame shot him a dirty look.

"Dumbass, making me look bad," Abarai mumbled.

Rolling his eyes, Toushirou went and stood beside Matsumoto. She appeared ready to burst with pride. He felt Rukia's eyes on his neck, and it made his hair stand upright.

"Good. Now that that's sorted, let's get this meeting over with. You all know why you're here. Once the final report clears, we're going to Karakura Town to keep an eye on things. While we're down there, only two things matter."

The atmosphere in the room sharpened with interest. Toushirou took a deep breath. He'd spent a lot of time concocting this speech.

"Our divisions, our ranks, our family names – those are all conceits of Soul Society. In the Land of the Living, none of that is important, so forget about it. While we're there, only remember this; all that matters is keeping the residents of Karakura safe, and putting your trust in me. I'm the strongest out of all of us, and no matter what, I'll protect all of us. But I'm going to need you to listen for that happen. I expect absolute obedience and respect. Am I clear?"

 _(Not bad, boy.)_

Their chorus was music to Toushirou's ears.

"Sir, yes, sir!"

And then the alarm went off.

* * *

 _A/N: If something's different from canon, there's a 99 percent chance it's intentional. Consider this some weird AU blend of canon and whatever the hell I'm trying to pull off. I mean, I'm writing about a crack pairing, so... -shrug-_

 _Also, I decided to bring Hanataro because he's a precious muffin. Just try and stop me. Reviews are always appreciated, yo._


	2. Welcome Home

**Karakura Heroes**

 **Chapter Two: Welcome Home**

The high-pitched whine of the alarm hurt Rukia's ears. She stood with a grimace. Beside her, Hanataro whimpered, pressing his hands to his head. He started to trip and fall, but Rukia caught him, steadying the frail healer. Hanataro opened his mouth, lips forming words, but she couldn't hear him over the strident, ringing cacophony.

Ikkaku had his sword out. It figured that a member of the Eleventh Division would respond to an emergency with violence.

 _(What's he going to do, cut the sound?)_

Sode no Shirayuki's calm, amused comment helped Rukia relax. She smirked. Captain Hitsugaya was shouting, trying to make himself heard. It would've been funny, the way he was waving his arms, white coat flapping about as his face reddened, if the situation wasn't so serious.

Hitsugaya's speech from a few seconds ago still jangled in the recesses of her short term memory. When had simple, brusque words last brought her such comfort? Wasn't it – oh, right. Almost unbidden, her hand reached for her hair, as though to smooth strands ruffled by a firm yet gentle touch.

Suddenly the alarm cut out. Hitsugaya choked on a shouted command, glancing at his lieutenant. Rukia followed his line of vision. The glow of demon arts faded from Matsumoto, and she scratched the back of her head and grinned.

"It sure got noisy, huh?" she asked.

"Such an ugly sound." Yumichika flicked aside a stray piece of hair.

"More intruders, maybe?!" Ikkaku declared, knuckles whitening as he gripped his soul cutter. Hitsugaya rolled his eyes.

"Put your damn sword away, Madarame," he said. "And good thinking, Matsumoto." The strawberry-blonde beamed. Everyone jumped, then, when a member of the stealth force appeared. Hanataro even went so far as to let out an undignified yelp, hiding behind Rukia's slight frame to the best of his ability. The dark red uniform signified the new arrival was a part of the inner court troop.

Rukia frowned. She'd never seen such messengers in person before. Foreboding gripped her in its terrible clutches, and Rukia swallowed. Whatever message was about to be delivered, it couldn't be good.

"Captain Hitsugaya. More arrancar have appeared in Karakura Town. Captain-Commander Yamamoto has granted you emergency authorization to the Land of the Living!" he stated.

"What, now?!" Renji shouted. Rukia stepped on his foot, and then he was yelling for an entirely different reason. "What the fuck, Rukia?"

"What he meant to say was, 'right away, sir'!" Rukia smile was serene. Renji glared and tried to elbow her in the stomach, but she danced back, her smile becoming a triumphant smirk. What little of the stealth trooper's face could be seen remained unchanged.

"That's enough, both of you," Hitsugaya snapped. Rukia froze and ducked her head. Renji stiffened as well, folding his arms across his broad chest. After a moment, the young captain asked, "What makes this different from the last arrancar attack?"

"It seems these arrancar have been perfected. Their spiritual pressures are on par with a captain's, if not higher," said the man. Rukia's breath caught and the attitude in the room turned somber.

 _Ichigo…_

 _(What do they expect us to do, exactly? If what they say is true, the only person here who could handle such an opponent is Captain Hitsugaya, and even that is uncertain.)_

 _Doesn't matter._

There was a hard lump in Rukia's throat. She tried to gulp, a familiar fear digging its insidious claws into her. Sweat slid down her brow.

 _I owe them a life debt._

 _(Very well. I stand beside you.)_

"Thank you. We're leaving. Now," Hitsugaya said. "That's an order, everyone. Move out!"

"W-wait!" Hanataro called out. He scuffed the floor, his bangs shadowing shy eyes. "I… I'm not really good at flash step." Hitsugaya gawked at the healer, and then shifted his teal glare onto Rukia. She blushed in spite of herself, and then jutted her chin out. She refused to be shamed about this.

Renji knelt and said, "Get on, Hanataro." Gratefulness filled Rukia at her best friend's words. How she'd missed Renji, during their brief estrangement. She showed him her appreciation in a nonverbal fashion, but the lieutenant was distracted trying to coax a stammering Hanataro onto his back. While that issue sorted itself out, Rukia had an idea.

"Oh," she said. "Captain, we're closer to the Kuchiki's gate than the official exit. We should use it."

"You're right," Hitsugaya said after a brief pause. "Lead the way."

* * *

They dropped out of the sky.

Rukia's heart ached as the familiar sight of Karakura spread out before her. Nostalgia filled her, memories of a sun drenched summer spent hunting shadows. Things had seemed so simple, then, even though she'd known it wouldn't last.

 _Want to see the fireworks festival with us, Kuchiki?_

 _(Focus, Rukia.)_

She touched Sode no Shirayuki and nodded. She could feel Ichigo's presence – he still lived, then. Her heart was gladdened by the realization. Then she frowned. His spiritual pressure ebbed and flowed, fluctuated at strange intervals. She could sense Chad and Inoue, too, but their life force flickered like a dying candle. And –

 _(Hollows!)_

 _Not hollows, arrancar! Two of them._ There was a darker edge to the vast presence, something almost alien in how different it was from her. Powerful. Very, very powerful. An explosion rocked the area, a massive surge of spiritual pressure. Rukia bit her lower lip. It was coming from the park.

"I know the quickest route," she called to the others. "Follow me."

Rukia took off, not bothering to check if her comrades were coming. Her heart beat rapidly, and she strained to push her flash step to the limit. Faster, faster, faster…

 _If they die, it'll be my fault._

 _(Don't do this to yourself, Rukia.)_

She didn't know what she would do when she got there. Rukia started to devise a roughshod plan. Release Sode no Shirayuki. Try to distract the arrancar. Make it easier for the others to take them down. Sacrifice self, if necessary.

 _(Let's try to avoid that last step, yes? I only just found you again.)_

Rukia almost tripped to a halt, startled. The dread inducing spiritual pressures had vanished. She kept moving, rounding the corner and into the park. Her stomach dropped and bile rose in her throat.

Corpses littered the ground. It reminded Rukia of when she was a child, and she'd pop the heads of dandelions off. Strewn about, careless, forgotten, inert. The earth was churned and ripped apart from the intensity of the fighting. And amidst the aftermath, one vivid shock of orange.

"Ichigo!" She skidded to his side. The substitute soul reaper had passed out, collapsed, although the shallow rise and fall of his chest, as well as the pulse of his spiritual pressure, assured Rukia that he still lived. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Chad and Orihime's prone forms (and was that Tatsuki?). She swallowed.

"Ah, Rukia, you've returned to us," said a familiar voice. Urahara stood over her, green coat flapping in the breeze. She hadn't sensed him at all, had he masked his presence this whole time? If Rukia concentrated, she could tell Yoruichi was nearby as well. The purple haired women limped into Rukia's peripheral, then, grimacing as she knelt down to survey Chad.

"Urahara." Rukia got up, turning to face him. Something cold and vitriolic twisted in her gut.

 _(This is the one that almost took you from me?)_

They stared at each other. Placing his hand on his hat, Urahara sighed. The dark bags under his eyes had never seemed more prominent.

"Oh no!" Hanataro's wail distracted them. Scrambling off Renji, the little healer ran toward the closest dead body. He knelt, checking it, and tears streamed down his face. "Gone! They're gone! W-we can't even perform a s-s-s-soul burial!"

Hanataro began to sob, his frail shoulders shaking. The wretched noise filled the ugly silence, and Matsumoto tried to place a comforting hand on the boy's back. Hitsugaya, Yumichika, Renji, and Ikkaku were impassive, the white haired captain's arms crossed and his laser-like stare focused on Urahara.

"Right now, we need to worry about the living!" Yoruichi spoke, harshly cutting across Hanataro's grief, and gestured in his direction. "You. Help me with these three. Please." She softened somewhat at the end of her request. Hanataro made an odd choking sound, collected himself, and then stumbled to Orihime's side, wiping at his face with his baggy sleeve.

"What _happened_ , Urahara?" Rukia asked, managing to speak around the lump in her throat. He slid his hands into his pockets, looking past her at nothing in particular.

"… I believe I owe you an apology –."

" _I don't care_." Her voice cracked. She was furious, then. Rage filled her, freezing her from the inside out. The temperature dropped. Urahra didn't say anything. Rukia continued speaking when it became clear that he wouldn't. "I told myself – I told myself, while in Soul Society, I'm sure he regrets doing what he did. So if he says sorry even once, I'll forgive him. But, I just, fuck, Urahara, _how could you let this happen_? _Isn't this your home_?!"

Rukia threw her arms out at the surrounding carnage. She blazed with white fire, her purple eyes too bright, as though filmed over with unshed tears. Urahara sheathed his sword, looking at the cane pensively.

"I miscalculated," he said. "I didn't think such high level arrancar would be interested in souls that couldn't even see them. And I felt Ichigo could handle himself until I got here."

"You seem to be miscalculating a lot as of late," Rukia said curtly.

That did it.

For a brief moment, the persona cracked, and Urahara's wan appearance tightened with wroth. She could feel it, pressing down on her, and pinpricks of sweat erupted from the force of his spiritual pressure. Then a cool hand touched her shoulder, and the intense animosity vanished in its wake.

"Kisuke Urahara," Hitsugaya said. He was rather close. Rukia could feel his words brushing against her ear. Unable to help herself, she fidgeted. "What happened to the arrancar?"

Urahara blinked and then whipped out his fan. He said, mouth covered and muffled, "Ah, you must be the prodigy captain. How exciting, that we finally get to meet face-to-face! Unfortunately, the arrancar escaped back to Hueco Mundo. I didn't want to risk Ichigo or anyone else by engaging them further."

"Understood," Hitsugaya said. "I realize we came by on short notice, but are our lodgings and physical bodies prepared?"

 _Lodgings?_

"Ah, yes. You're in luck, that's been ready for some time now," Urahara said. "However, I need to treat the others. I'd leave it to Yoruichi, but, well, she was also injured in the fight. I'm also going to need to handle damage control."

"I'm fine!" Yoruichi shouted from where she sat, trying to shoo Hanataro away.

"Of course, of course!" Urahara called out. He flicked his fan to the side, shielding his face from Yoruichi's vision. "She's really not."

"I heard that!"

"Ah, sorry, sorry. Listen, Captain, I'll send Jinta and Ururu to direct you to your temporary home." Urahara's fan snapped shut. "Deal?"

"Fine." Hitsugaya's gaze swept the field of corpses. His eyes became two chips of ice. "This can't happen again."

"I know," Urahara said, sounding exhausted. "It won't."

Hitsugaya's hand dropped away. Rukia realized she'd balled her own into fists, and forcibly relaxed. Twin sets of four crescent shaped indents shone on her palms. She rubbed her shoulder and tried not to stare at Urahara.

 _(I don't like that man at all.)_

 _Doesn't matter,_ Rukia thought, a tad bitter, _we need all the help we can get._

* * *

They would be staying at a small hot springs inn near the center of Karakura Town. According to Jinta, stated in the most obnoxious manner possible, it was owned by an older couple whose memory Urahara modified. They were now off on a cruise to see the world, and had left the property in the hands of their "grandson".

"A grade schooler running an inn," Jinta had guffawed.

Of course, he took one look at Hitsugaya's face, and proceeded to keep his mouth shut the rest of the way there. It provided a miniscule spark of amusement to lift the melancholic pall hanging over the group, at least. Rukia tried not let her low spirits show, but she could tell Renji wasn't buying it for a second. He hovered protectively in her personal sphere, although he didn't seem to know what to say.

Hanataro stayed behind with Urahara to assist the injured. She hoped he was doing okay. His face had still been wet when he told everyone he'd meet them later. Rukia began to have doubts about suggesting Hanataro tag along. He was such a sensitive person, she hated to see him get hurt.

The inn was as modest as Jinta intimated. Rukia would be sharing a room with Matsumoto, while Ikkaku stayed with Yumichika, and Hanataro with Renji. Hitsugaya was the only one who'd be getting his own, private quarters, it seemed.

They'd left in a hurry and thus hadn't had the chance to bring any belongings. Hitsugaya assured the group that Soul Society would help transfer whatever they required as they spent the next several days settling in. Rukia walked through the empty lodgings in her new, physical body, feeling rather empty herself.

It was a place to stay, but it wasn't a home.

"Are you okay?" Renji asked, leaning against the doorframe of the living room.

"Are you?" Rukia retorted. The answering silence told her all she needed to know.

She headed upstairs to her new room. It was small and neat, with two twin beds, a television, a desk, and a closet. Matsumoto was lying on the bed closest to the window, and had turned the TV on. She rolled onto her side to face Rukia, red-gold hair spilling across her neck and chest. Outside, it was cloudy and overcast. Rain was on the horizon.

"Hey," said the lieutenant of the Tenth Division.

"Lieutenant Matsumoto." Rukia inclined her head.

"Ah, you can call me Rangiku. No need to be so formal, little Rukia!" She smiled.

"Okay." Rukia walked over to the closet and opened it, climbing in. She heard Matsumoto call out to her, but slid the door shut behind her. She stared at the wall and pretended, for a moment, that she was in Ichigo's room. That cicada's were chirping, that it was summer, hot and humid, and he'd soon knock and tell her he'd brought her dinner in that grumpy manner of his.

 _(But then we would still be separated.)_

 _I know. I'm sorry._

 _(You're sad now, but you have to realize that everything that's happened has been out of your control.)_

 _That doesn't help._

Her index finger traced the wall. She'd planned to put a fake window there. Spruce the place up a bit, upon making her glorious return. Rukia had envisioned it quite a few times in her head, as well as the stupefied look on Ichigo's face. There was a knock, distracting her from her depressing thoughts.

"Rukia?" Matsumoto asked from the other side.

"Sorry, ah, Rangiku. I just need to be alone for a bit."

"Okay." A beat. "Can I ask you one question, at least?"

"Sure." Rukia pressed her forehead against the wall. It felt rough compared to her smooth skin.

"Is it true Ichigo Kurosaki knocked you up?"

"What?" Rukia whipped around, sliding the door open so hard she almost ripped it off its metal track. She could feel her face turning red. "No!"

Matsumoto stood a few paces beyond the closet, hands behind her back, smirking somewhat. She said, "Dammit. Now I owe Nanao money." Rukia spluttered, attempting to internalize the new information.

"You – you made a bet over whether I was _pregnant_?" She was mortified. "With _Lieutenant Ise_?"

"Of course." Matsumoto's cheeks ballooned out. Her lower lip exercised its remarkable ability to pout to its fullest extent. "You've been the talk of the SWA for quite some time now. Which reminds me…"

Matsumoto ran over to the desk and scribbled something down on a piece of paper. Crumpling it into a ball, she then threw it at Rukia. Her brow twitched when it bounced off her head, and she bent to pick it up. The paper read _final warning_. _Signed, the SWA's vice-president's most trusted advisor, Lieutenant Rangiku Matsumoto of the Tenth Division_

"Stop missing meetings!" Matsumoto shouted. "You're making the SWA look bad with your truancy! The president is not happy! Especially since she wants to use you to get to Ichigo! Not! Happy!"

"I apologize!" Rukia shouted back. "I've been a little busy between losing my powers and almost getting executed!"

"Oh, no, you don't get to use that excuse anymore," Matusmoto said. "We understood _when_ it was happening, and maybe the first or second meeting after, but you've missed five! Five! Captain Kuchiki had to fill in for you!"

"I don't – my _brother_ attended the meetings?!" Rukia screeched.

"Yes! And he was fantastic! The president wants to make him an honorary member!" Matsumoto declared. Rukia's mouth opened and closed, mental capacities having short circuited. Then she laughed, unable to help it.

"You're ridiculous." It felt nice to laugh. A reminder that it was still possible, even in hard times. Matsumoto fondly patted her on the head. Rukia swatted her away with a frown.

"And you're adorable. I look forward to being roommates, Rukia," she said. Rukia paused, combing her fingers through her sable locks, and smiled a shy smile. Before the conversation could continue, Renji barged in.

"What's going on? I heard shouting!" he said, louder than both of them combined. Matsumoto grabbed Rukia, and before the little soul reaper knew it, she was being crushed between two massive breasts.

"Rukia and I were bonding. Girl things, you wouldn't understand, Renji," she said, her voice sweet. His face colored and Rukia squirmed, wriggling out of Matsumoto's grip.

"We're fine," she said, a little breathlessly.

 _(That was interesting. Like being smooshed by two bowling balls.)_

 _Quiet, you._

"Oh, uh, okay." Renji scratched his head. "Um, Hanataro came back. And he wanted to show everyone something. I guess." Rukia and Matsumoto both blinked.

"Something? Is it free?!" Matsumoto cried, sprinting out the room and down the stairs. A pair of dark brown eyes under inked brows studied Rukia.

"Feeling better?" Renji asked.

"I could hardly feel worse," she responded, sighing. "Thank you, Renji."

He grinned, and then reached out, caught her in a headlock, and gave her a noogie. She yelped and tried to squirm free, although his strong grip held her in place. Renji let go after a moment and, laughing, said, "You've spent too much time with Ichigo. He's made you dumber."

"You accomplish that well enough," Rukia muttered, but the retort lacked any sort of bite. They followed Matsumoto downstairs together. Rain began to fall, smudging the window panes and rendering the world outside an opaque blur. It lent the older inn a surreal, dreamscape quality.

Everyone was gathered in the living room. Hanataro stood in the center, the focal point, radiating excitement. In his arms was a large, bright yellow crate of –.

"Look, Rukia. Juice boxes! Urahara gave them to me as thanks for helping." Hanataro beamed, meeting her surprised stare. "He also said that we all need to come and pick up our mod souls in three to five business days. No refunds!"

Warmth filled Rukia, and she smiled back.

 _(What a nice boy. You know, Hanataro is the type of person a girl should marry.)_

 _Duly noted, mother._

 _(I don't appreciate your sass, young lady.)_

"How are Ichigo and the others?" Rukia asked.

"They were still knocked out, but stabilized, when I left," he replied. She breathed a relieved sigh.

"What the hell is this?" Ikkaku gaped at the carton that Hanataro handed to him. His grip tightened, crushing the juice box and spraying sweetened, colored water everywhere. Ikkaku shouted and hurled the smashed beverage as though it burned him. "Demon piss!"

"Don't be a dumbass," Rukia said, over Ikkaku's cursing. "As resident expert of the Land of the Living, let me show you what to do."

"Expert?" Renji asked, quirking an eyebrow. She ignored him, still nursing a grudge regarding the earlier ambush.

Rukia helped Hanataro distribute the juice boxes, proudly displaying both how to separate the straw _and_ how to insert it into the carton. She half-expected Hitsugaya to refuse, but his expression was neutral as he took one. He should've already known how to operate a juice box, given her demonstration several days prior, but Rukia wouldn't fault him for requiring assistance. Even if he was a captain. It was a complex process, after all.

"Should we have a toast?" Yumichika suggested. Everyone paused, and then looked at Hitsugaya. He rolled his eyes.

"Sure," he said. "Does the resident expert want to do the honors?"

Was he making fun of her? It was impossible to tell. She wasn't sure Hitsugaya knew what facial expressions were. Unless he was angry, of course. Otherwise his face was impassive, like a block of ice. Fitting, Rukia supposed, all things considered.

"Okay." She swallowed, suddenly nervous. "To, uh, us. To Karakura. To all the people who lost their lives, and to all the people who got hurt. And to stopping Aizen." The mood took a serious turn, and everyone tapped their straws together and drank. There was a brief, respectful quiet as they slurped in unison. Naturally, Matsumoto was the first to break it.

"I feel so cultured!" she declared. "Tell me more of your secrets, Rukia!"

Rukia had a very devious idea, then. She directed an innocent smile Matsumoto's way. "Well, did you know that humans have a specific manner in which they greet each other, when they meet?"

"Really? You never told me this!" Hanataro said, looking excited. Rukia nodded, solemn, and crossed her hands on her opposite shoulders.

"Oh, but it's true. When you see Ichigo, you should do it. He'll be very impressed. Just make this gesture and say BOHOHOHO as loud as you can!" Rukia's shout caused everyone to jump, even Hitsugaya. The captain's teal eyes narrowed. Renji was the first to recover, seeing straight through her.

"You're so full of shit," he said, snorting, and she directed a sweet smile his direction. Renji paled and cleared his throat, dropping the subject.

 _(Wise man.)_

Rukia smiled, surprised by the wave of happiness growing within her.

Maybe this could become a home.

* * *

Rukia awoke drenched in sweat. She'd been having a nightmare, wandering through a field of dandelions, although the tops were replaced with the heads of dead humans, accompanied by an overwhelming sense of dread. In the distance, the Soukyokou loomed, waiting to obliterate her soul. She sat up on the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands.

There was a hollow in the vicinity. It was weak, a mere pinprick compared to what the arrancar generated. Looking up, Rukia then realized Matsumoto was long gone. The lieutenant had left a letter, explaining that she'd been notified and was already in pursuit of the Hollow.

Rukia felt disappointed. It would've been nice to have something to fight. Something to take her mind off her depressed mindset. Her frustrations over her own weaknesses.

 _(There will be countless more Hollows, of that I can assure you. We will get the chance to dance.)_

Sode no Shirayuki's gentle presence soothed Rukia. She still was restless, though, and after a moment flipped open the window of her room. Whenever she was distressed, climbing to high places helped her relax. It was cool outside, and the earth had that fresh scent it always got after a rainstorm passed through.

Rukia clambered up the scaffolding, agile and confident. The old inn had a lot of cracks and crevices that she could dig her hands into. She reached the roof with relative ease, and realized she wasn't alone. Hitsugaya was facing her, having no doubt sensed her ascension.

"Kuchiki. There are stairs, you know," he said in that flat tone of his.

"Sorry, sir." She felt embarrassed and her cheeks grew heated. Hitsugaya blinked and then shrugged, leaning back on his hands to stare at the night sky.

"It's fine. You can stay. If you want." The hollow's vile aura vanished. Rukia worried at her bottom lip. Hitsugaya intimidated her. Still, he'd offered, and it would be nice to have some companionship. She eased to his side, careful to keep a respectful distance between them. "Are you okay?"

It took a second to realize Hitsugaya was addressing her, unknowingly echoing Renji from earlier. Rukia fumbled for a response. "Ah, yes, Captain Hitsugaya. Thank you for asking. Sir." He stared at her and she found she had to look away.

"Urahara is our ally and we need him. Don't provoke him," Hitsugaya said. Rukia blinked.

"I know, sir," she said, a slight edge of resentment creeping into her response, almost without her meaning to. Rukia still couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. She dug her fingers into her skirt, clenching fistfuls of soft fabric.

"I can't really blame you, though. I wouldn't have handled it half as well. If he did to me what he'd done to you," Hitsugaya said. Startled, she looked up. There was a glint in his eye and it was – strange. She couldn't interpret it.

"He did it for a good reason," Rukia mumbled.

"He is the reason you almost died," Hitsugaya countered.

"He also is the reason I still live." She sighed.

"Did he do it to save you, or his own skin?" He twitched.

Rukia frowned. She said, "You have a rather low opinion of Kisuke Urahara, it seems."

"Men who smile like that have secrets. Secrets that get innocent bystanders killed. Or worse," Hitsugaya said moodily. Forlorn, Rukia couldn't bring herself to disagree. They sat there, drowning in silence and melancholy. Even Sode no Shirayuki was quiet.

"About Hanataro Yamada." It was a relief when Hitsugaya spoke again. Although his words made Rukia nervous. She braced herself. "Good call. But work with him on his flash step, Kuchiki. We can't have him slowing everyone down like that."

"Ah… thank you, captain. And I will," Rukia said. Hitsugaya arched a brow.

"How is an unseated soul reaper more proficient at flash step than a seated officer?" he asked. Taken aback, Rukia flailed for an excuse. Then she gave up and decided to settle on the truth.

"My brother helps me." Almost as long as she'd been elevated to soul reaper. It had often been an unpleasant experience. She'd been too terrified to take much of anything from the lessons. Recently, though, it had become rather… nice. Rukia was also beginning to realize it was an effort on Byakuya's part to spend time with her. Her flash step had improved in leaps and bounds, too, as a direct result of their closer relationship. She made a mental reminder to ask him about the SWA meetings.

"Oh," Histugaya said. Another awkward pause. "You should get some sleep, Kuchiki. Tomorrow will be a busy day."

"Um, okay. I mean, yes, sir. Maybe you should, too. Sleep, I mean." Rukia was a little surprised at how bold she was being. She always felt braver in the Land of the Living, though. Or maybe Ichigo really had made her dumber.

"I'll think about it. When my lieutenant gets back. If she gets back. I might have to hunt her down and drag her out of a bar," Hitsugaya said, seeming somewhat irritated.

 _(Why do you surround yourself with emotionally stunted men?)_

Rukia bit the inside of her cheek.

 _It's not my fault. I'm some sort of magnet for men whose default expression is a scowl. If I'm lucky. You like Hanataro, though, I thought._

 _(Yes. He gets the shiny soul cutter seal of approval.)_

Rukia stifled a laugh. Now Hitsugaya was looking at her strangely. She said, "Good night, Captain Hitsugaya."

He tilted his head and studied her. He was almost _pretty_ , for a boy, Rukia realized, with his elegant features and long, thick lashes. Her heart skipped a beat and she told herself to get a grip and stop checking out her captain. Substitute captain? Hitsugaya spoke, derailing her train of thought.

"Good night, Kuchiki."

* * *

 _Author's Note:_ This was hard to write. Trying to balance the humor with the serious moments was not easy. Like, at all. This was always intended to be more comedic, and then I re-watched the episode and got annoyed at how they glossed over Yami's mass murder. And thus, it ended up longer than I expected. Bah.

Expect this to stray further and further into AU territory as we progress. I was always disappointed by the squandered potential of Hitsugaya's Advance Team. Although stuff like the kendo episode was and remains glorious. Thank you for the reviews, they were very kind.

Fun Fact: Based the inn they're staying at on the inn in Shaman King. My first anime. Memories!


End file.
